The thunders of _Gullfoss_ diminished as we followed the brink of its canyon southward and descended into the stony waste of _Biskuptúngur_, Bishop’s-Tongue, a tongue-shaped mass of fertile land in the valley of the _Túngufljót_ formerly belonging to a bishop. Here the foaming of its silt-laden stream was the only evidence of the recent travail of the _Hvitá_. Of the twenty travellers in the party from _Geysir_ all had returned except one, a German who stayed with us till we reached _Skipholt_, Ship-Ridge. On the way he told us of an amusing experience he had had with the Icelandic pony. During the first hour of his ride he wished to stop and repeatedly shouted “Whoa!” The pony only went the faster and finally ran away with him. He stated that he had ridden horseback in many lands and no matter what language was spoken this was the first country where “whoa!” did not mean “stop.” _Hót_ or _hoa_ is the Icelandic word at which a pony starts quickly into a trot or gallop and the sound so much resembles “whoa” that the pony was doing his best to be obedient. About noon we regained the trail that leads from _Geysir_ across the _Hvitá_ towards _Hekla_. And again we found pleasure in the earlier visit of the King, for a good bridge has been constructed across the _Hvitá_ at this place. This is one of the worst of the Icelandic rivers to ford and many people have been drowned in the attempt. A few miles through a delightful country brought us to _Skipholt_ which we found to be a model farm. It is one of the best in Iceland. During the visit of the King in 1907 he was so well pleased with the conditions at this farm that he presented the owner with a medal in the form of a cross for the excellence of his work and the skill he had displayed in the construction of the buildings and in the management of his flocks and herds. It was the wish of the King that it might prove an incentive to the neighboring farmers to do their best to imitate their more prosperous neighbor. It was Sunday and no work was in progress. We left the ponies in the lane and went up to the house where we received a cordial welcome and the farmer’s wife set before us an excellent dinner. With a mixture of English, German and French we conversed for an hour over the dinner with our German companion who proved to be a professor at Berlin but spoke no English. The landlady beamed upon us, all the while conscious of our difficulties and had it not been for the Icelandic reserve I have no doubt that she would have proved a good interpreter. It was not till later that we discovered that many of these people can speak several languages. The biscuit, pastry, griddlecakes, mutton and coffee were excellent as well as the butter, cheese and milk and it did seem, by other standards, as if we had eaten more than the value of twenty-five cents each, which was the charge.